


And It All Came Tumbling Down

by ImOutOfMyVulcanMind (LoopyLu94)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, DCU
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Bombs, Drowning, Explosions, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-12 22:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoopyLu94/pseuds/ImOutOfMyVulcanMind
Summary: During a work party, a call comes in that the Joker has planted a bomb somewhere in Gotham. You’re tasked with clearing your building when the unthinkable happens.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Reader, Bruce Wayne/You
Comments: 12
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

The champagne was expensive, imported directly from France at far too much a bottle, you should know, you were the one who placed the order, yet it tasted dull on your tongue as you sipped at the flute. It wasn’t the alcohol’s fault, nearly everyone at this retirement party had complimented you on the choice, no, it was the company or lack thereof that was sullying the experience. Bruce had agreed to meet you at the party, something you’d been okay with given your schedules. But now you were two hours in and there was still no sign of him. And he was due to give a speech soon to thank the retiree for all the years he’d worked on the board at Wayne Enterprises. Already you’d been pulled aside twice by other board members, asking where Bruce was. **  
**

You slipped out of the function room and into the empty stairwell, pulling your phone from your purse so you could call him.

On the fifth ring, he answered. 

“Bruce, where are you?” You asked before he had a chance to speak.

“Working. I’m not going to make it.”

“Work- dammit, Bruce, you promised you’d make it this time!”

“This is more important than a party, Y/N. You know that.” 

The fact that he didn’t even sound sorry or bothered in any way made it even more frustrating, but you forced yourself to take a breath. If he was working, it must be on something important. “What’s going on? Is it something I need to be concerned about?”

“No.”

“Then what are you working on?”

“…Cases.”

The pause was enough to tell you everything. He wasn’t working on a damned thing that was urgent and was just using it as an excuse. “Fuck your ‘cases’, Bruce! What the hell am I meant to tell everyone?! This is the fifth event you’ve skipped in a row!”

“Think of something. The reason I made you COO was to run things like this and cover for me.”

“Not with stuff like this! And not after I promised everyone you’d be here to make a damned speech because you promised me first!” 

“You knew this job would come with broken promises and last-minute changes when you signed up for it, Y/N!”

He was getting annoyed now too. It wasn’t a lie, what he said. You had expected to be pushed into making up excuses at a minute’s notice, but it still didn’t stop the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck at the thought of having to make another one. Leaning against the rail, you dropped your head into your free hand, feeling a headache form already. You sighed. “It’s not just that…I…was hoping we’d get the spend the whole night together.”

Another pause. “Why?”

Because it had been ages since you had, and… “You don’t remember, do you? What today is?”

“Was I meant to?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Silence. “It’s my fucking birthday you asshole!” You snapped, hanging up the line before he had a chance to retort. You glanced at the door to the function room, seeing that it was closed still, with faint music playing from the other side. Good. It meant there was little chance anyone had heard your outburst. Last thing you needed was more embarrassment.

How could Bruce have forgotten? You’d only been dating just over a year true, but he knew you before that. Knew your birthday. Proof being that last year he’d taken you to dinner, offered you a promotion, and gifted you a gold necklace. The same necklace you were wearing tonight. So not like he had the excuse of it all still being too new for him to know. 

He hadn’t said anything to you that morning, but you’d been up and out of the manor before he’d even gotten out of bed. You hadn’t minded. You’d been greeted in the kitchen by Alfred and Dick with cards and hugs and your favorite breakfast that they’d made together. Then they’d sent you off with some fresh-baked cupcakes to spend the whole day here at the hotel, making sure everything was organized and ready. You hadn’t thought much about Bruce and his lack of acknowledgment thus far, just presuming he’d show up tonight with a smile and birthday kiss. Which was all you really wanted. 

Glancing at the time on your phone, you grimaced. Nearly time for Bruce to give his speech. So nearly time for you to make his excuses for him. It was tempting to just say the truth, that Bruce just didn’t give a fuck and didn’t want to be there, but it would just damage relationships and put a bigger rift between you and Bruce. 

Squaring your shoulders and with another deep breath, you walked back into the room and headed straight to the microphone that had been set up just in front of the small podium holding the retirement gift. You swallowed your nerves and gathered everyone’s attention. A brief apology and explanation of Bruce’s absence before launching into a speech of your own. It wasn’t as good as Bruce’s would’ve been, but given the fact that you had nothing prepared and were nowhere near as experienced as him at making stuff up on the fly, it went down pretty well. 

You’d started to think you’d gotten away with it again when another board member approached you soon after the speech. “Wonderful speech, Y/N. Such a shame Bruce couldn’t make it though.”

You forced an apologetic smile onto your face, “I know. He was really looking forward to tonight as well, but as I said, Richard was taken ill today. I offered to stay at home instead, but he wanted Bruce.”

The lady tutted with a fake sympathetic smile of her own. “Poor boy. All he’s been through and now he seems to get sick every other week!” It sounded kind enough, but you caught the edge to it that said she knew full well it was all bullshit. “I’m sure he’ll recover quick enough with Bruce’s care though.”

“I have no doubt. He’s a tough boy.” If only she knew how tough. “Excuse me. I promised I’d call and see how he was doing.” 

Ducking out of the conversation, you retreated to a corner of the room, and checked your phone, hoping that Bruce had called or text. Yeah, right. You looked out the window in front of you, down at the city below. You hadn’t told anyone, but there’d been a reason you’d picked this function room at this hotel for the party. The restaurant on the top floor, just two levels above was meant to be one of the best in Gotham, and you’d taken it upon yourself to arrange a late dinner for you and Bruce, along with a night in the honeymoon suite. That was going to waste now. Actually, no. It was still your birthday and you weren’t going to waste it on Bruce. If he apologized, you’d go home, but if he didn’t you were going to get the best meal of your life then raid the minibar and get drunk, and order a bunch of desserts through room service. All on his dime naturally. Was it the most mature way to deal with it? No. But you weren’t going to go slinking back to a man who couldn’t even be bothered to remember his own girlfriend’s birthday either. 

And it wasn’t like you expected him to always be perfectly punctual with dates and events. The reason you’d arranged your own birthday night was that he probably hadn’t even had time to think of doing something like that. You were fine with that. You knew when you’d decided to keep dating him after finding out he was the Bat that things wouldn’t be normal. That date nights would be canceled and anniversaries missed. You’d spent several hours sitting alone in a restaurant for your first anniversary because he’d been needed. It was embarrassing yeah, but he’d stopped Scarecrow from releasing his fear toxin in a hospital, and that was worth the ‘Ditched at Dinner?’ headline that appeared in papers the next day. But Bruce had actually remembered the date and even arranged for both of you to spend a weekend in the South of France a few weeks later to make it up to you.

This was different.

Bruce rarely forgot anything. Since you’d known him he’d at least never forgotten anything important. So what did that say about his thoughts on your relationship?

You didn’t like where that train of thought went. 

The more you stood there thinking and dwelling, the angrier you got. Even if the miracle of him deciding to apologize happened now you weren’t sure you could face going home tonight. Maybe a night apart, either way, was for the best. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was Bruce. It was tempting to ignore it or just hang up but decided to at least hear him out. You were petty enough to wait the length of five rings before answering though. 

“What?" 

"You need to evacuate the building.” It wasn’t Bruce on the other end of the line. It was Batman. 

“What’s going on?" 

"Joker released a video. He’s planted a bomb in one of ten hotels in the city. Including the Tower.”

“Shit. You think it’s here?" 

"Doubtful. There are bigger hotels with more people on the list. I’m heading to those now, but we need to be careful and clear out every listed building.”

“Shouldn’t the GCPD be the ones to evacuate?” You asked, already panicking at the thought of having to be the one responsible for that amount of people. 

“They’re stretched thin enough going to the one’s Robin and I can’t. You need to do it.”

“How the fuck am I meant to do that exactly?" 

"Fire alarm. Set one-off and all floors will have to clear out. Go to the bathroom make some smoke, then get out of there.”

“Okay, okay.” There was a knot in the pit of your stomach, any anger you’d felt dissipating rapidly at the thought of Bruce charging into a building with an armed bomb. “Be safe.”

There was a moment of silence and you thought Bruce was just going to hang up. “I’ll see you later,” he said before the line went dead.

You wanted to stop and compose yourself, but there was no time. Bruce wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t urgent. Making a beeline to the bathroom, you checked to make sure it was empty before pulling out the lighter you kept in your purse. You didn’t smoke yourself, but years of being an assistant had taught you it was good to keep one on your person at all times, and you’d kept it up even after your promotion. Closing the lid on one of the toilets, you slipped off your heels as you waded up a bunch of paper, before clambering up. You lit the paper, the flames catching instantly, and waved it up towards the ceiling. 

There was a second then sprinklers burst open, soaking you and the paper at the same time as the shrill scream of an alarm started to sound. 

Forgoing your shoes, you rushed back out to the room to see everyone already heading straight for the stairs. Good. You waited until everyone else had left before exiting yourself, looking up to see the staff and guests at the restaurant all heading down too. You could’ve gone. Could’ve followed the crowd down and out. But you didn’t. You waited by the door, watching until everyone had passed you before moving down yourself. Bruce asked you to get everyone out, and that’s what you were going to. 

On each floor, you stopped and waited, ushering any stragglers down and out before continuing on. 

You were about halfway down the building when it happened. 

A long, thundering growl that shook the building, the sound of glass shattering and walls cracking. A deafening rumble and crash and you only just jumped back in time to avoid chunks of rubble crashing down onto the steps in front of you. 

You clutched at the handrail, head ducked down low as you curled in on yourself, heart hammering in your chest, trying to ride it out. There was dust everywhere, covering your skin and dress and making it hard to breathe. Tears burned at your eyes, whole body trembling along with the building. 

Everything stopped save for a few light chunks of debris crumbling away, and you slowly worked up the courage to move from your spot. You stood on shaky legs, your grip on the handrail still death tight as you took in the chaos. The path in front of you was entirely blocked by large chunks of rubble. Glancing up you could see the hole in the ceiling a few floors up, sparks dancing from the broken wires. 

Something was wrong. The bomb wasn’t big enough to take down the whole building and that wasn’t Joker’s style. He wouldn’t have gone through all that effort just for a relatively small explosion. Which meant there was probably another bomb waiting to go off. 

Shit.

In the distance, you could hear the last echoes of voices as people cleared the hotel, which meant you were the only one left up here. That was a win at least. You were still shaking but you tried to force yourself to keep calm. Panicking now wouldn’t help you. Not when you needed to focus on getting out. Bruce would be on his way already, but from what part of the city you didn’t know. 

The stairs behind you and up to the next floor were still intact, so you made your way up carefully to the door and pulled it open. The corridor seemed to be in one piece still. There were cracks in the ceiling and along the walls, and as you passed one of the first rooms you could see the items inside had been tossed about. But it was stable which was the main thing. Your plan was to try and find a way out. Maybe there was a way to climb out and down. Or at least a way to flag down the cops or Bruce to let them know you were here. You just needed to hurry. 

You scrambled through your purse, digging out your cell. There was a missed call from Bruce. With the fire alarm shrieking it wasn’t a surprise you hadn’t heard it. You needed to call him back, tell him you were trapped. 

The explosion beneath your feet sent you reeling into the wall. Through a window, you could see flames light up the building opposite. Everything shook and you screamed as the ceiling above you started to cave in, the whole thing coming down and smashing through the floor. You tried to run. Tried to avoid it. But it caught you anyway. 

The ground beneath you gave away, sending you tumbling down with wall and ceiling and scattered broken bits of furniture. It was too fast to try and grab onto something. Every surface you hit broke sending you down further. Another scream tried to rip itself free but no sound came out. 

For a moment everything slowed down. It felt like you could see every small detail fly by you in slow motion as a sudden wave of clarity hit you. You were going to die. You’d been twelve stories up. There was no way you’d survive the fall. You’d never get to see your family again. Never get to see Dick or Alfred. Never see Bruce. Never get to say goodbye. 

You hit something hard and everything went black. 

~

The ringing in your ears was incessant. The world around you spun and blurred as your eyes fluttered open. It was dark around you, with only a little light filtering in. Everything hurt. Something warm and sticky was running down your temple. You could barely get a breath and you couldn’t move your legs. 

Slowly the ringing stopped and everything was silent. The bomb must’ve knocked out the fire alarm. Something next to you lit up, and you could feel the vibrations roll through the floor. You reached for it, seeing the blood covering your hand as you grabbed it. 

It was your phone. The screen was cracked but you could see Bruce’s photo flicker behind it. You managed to answer the call, though even that felt like effort. 

“Y/N?! Are you out? Are you safe?” It was Bruce. Or Bruce as Batman. 

“Bruce…stuck…” Each word was a struggle. You were noticing more and more how much your head was hurting, and summoning the words you needed was getting harder. 

“I’m on the way. Ten minutes and I’ll be with you, okay? Just hold on.”

“‘Kay.” Your eyes closed again on their own. Ten minutes felt like forever and you just wanted to sleep. 

“Stay with me, Y/N. Where are you hurt?" 

"Dunno. My head. It hurts. Something…Somethings on my legs. Pinning me.” You swallowed thickly, attempting to take a breath. A dull ache spread through your side at the action. There was pressure there. Like an object was bearing down on you. “M'side. I don't…” Using the light of the phone, you tried to shift and see what was there. Just the simple movement tore another scream from you. 

In the faint light, you could make out the blood-covered length of metal that was sticking out of you, the red shining darkly against the grey. You reached with your free hand, whimpering in pain as you felt where it was pushed through your body. You must’ve fallen on it. A little higher. A little further in…it would’ve killed you. 

“Y/N!” Bruce calling your name drew you back to him. 

“Fell…on something. Lots of blood.” The panic had subsided, too focused on the pain instead, but now it came back, hitting you like a bus as the full realisation of just how screwed you were dawned. “Bruce…”

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’m going to get you out.”

How? You were trapped down here. There was mangled building and debris everywhere, creaking and moaning dangerously as if to say the slightest disturbance would send it all falling again. There was no way he’d be able to get down to you. Both of you would end up dying. “N-no. Dangerous.”

“I’m not leaving you, Y/N. I’ll fix this.” He sounded so determined that you were almost tempted to believe him. 

But the pain was getting worse. The throb in your head dwarfed everything else and it was getting increasingly harder to focus and talk. 

“Br'ce…m'srry…” You weren’t sure what you were sorry for, but the thought of dying with Bruce mad at you was almost scarier than the thought of dying. 

From the other side, you could hear Bruce take a deep breath like he was trying to steady himself. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, baby.” He’d turned off the voice modulator, and somehow, that made everything so much worse. 

Hot tears slipped down into your hairline. “Do… was s'lfish. Shouldn’t’ve b'n" 

"We’ll talk once your safe, okay? I’m nearly there.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. “L’ve you.”

“I love you.” In the background, you could hear the engine shutdown, and seconds later Bruce was back as Batman, talking to Gordon, saying something about a signal. 

Whatever it was you were lying on cracked loudly, jerking downwards and taking you with it. You cried out as the sudden movement tugged at the metal in your side and added more pressure to the weight on your legs. 

“I’m here. One minute and I’ll have you. I’m just working out my route down.”

You wanted to tell him not to again. That it was suicide, but you couldn’t make your brain work with your mouth. “Bruce-" 

It was the only word you could say before a giant chunk of the wall came falling down, breaking straight through the floor you were on and sending you on a second free fall. You felt the metal be torn from your side, the agony more than you could bear. 

You grasped out wildly, trying to hold onto something but failed. Bits of jagged edges and nails tore at your skin as you descended into the darkness. You thought, briefly, that you could hear your name. Someone calling it from above, but it couldn’t have been. He wouldn’t have followed you down. Not now. 

There were splashes behind your back seconds before ice-cold water enveloped you, your cry a mix of shock and pain at the landing. The hotel pool. 

You thrashed against the water but you were helpless. Too weak, too tired to fight your way through the debris. A metal pipe followed you in, pushing you down to the bottom and trapping you there, forcing the last of the air from your lungs. You watched the bubbles float away helplessly. 

It felt like a thousand needles were being plunged into you as water forced its way down your throat. Your fingers clawed at nothing, a useless attempt to fight against the crushing weight of the water. Your chest burned, screaming for air, eyes stinging as tears fell and melted into the liquid surrounding you. 

It was all so dark and cold and lonely. 

Body jerking for a breath that would never come, everything slipped into blackness. 


	2. Chapter 2

He should’ve seen it coming. He should’ve known Joker would target the Tower. But when he’d looked at the list it had seemed like the least obvious. There’d been two others on the list that had Joker written all over it. One was the biggest in Gotham with a current occupation of near a thousand. The other was slightly smaller but currently hosting a party for some of the most influential politicians in the state. Either would cause chaos, make the rest of Gotham feel even less safe than they did already. He’d gone to one, sent Robin to the other, certain they’d find it and stop a catastrophe. **  
**

He’d been halfway through his hotel when he heard the explosion. Moments later it came through the comms that it was the Tower. Top two levels were near destroyed. 

Bruce had tried calling Y/N but it only went to voicemail. Nothing to worry about, he’d told himself. In the rush and mayhem, it would be easy to miss a call. 

He’d just reached the Batmobile when the second bomb went off. He was the opposite end of the city but he saw the flames explode, bright against the darkness. It was hard to tell what floor it was, but it was lower, and it decimated it. Time had seemed to slow as he watched the hotel almost collapse in on itself. If anyone was still inside…

He’d kept trying to call her, but nothing. She could’ve left her phone behind or dropped it, he told himself, but there was a stone settling in the pit of his stomach that said otherwise.

The fourth time he tried the line connected. “Y/N?! Are you out? Are you safe?” Logic said he should’ve waited for her to speak first, just to make sure it was Y/N answering, but he needed to ask. 

For a few, too long seconds all he could hear was the ragged gasps of someone trying to breathe. A woman if his instincts were correct. Then, finally, “Bruce…stuck…” Her voice was quiet, words spoken at the ends of harsh breaths. 

His fingers tightened around the leather of the steering wheel, foot pressing down on the accelerator as he swerved down the streets, cursing silently as he glanced at the GPS on the display screen. The chaos of needing to rapidly evacuate several hotels had led to multiple areas being cordoned off, meaning he was forced to take a nondirect route.

“I’m on the way. Ten minutes and I’ll be with you, okay? Just hold on.” He kept his voice steady, calm. He was the Batman. And Batman was always cool and collected. The creator of fear not the feeler of it. It was a practice he’d become an expert at over the years, but not something he’d ever hoped to implement when it came to Y/N. But right now he needed to, for both their sakes.

“…’kay.” The word was so faint it was barely audible. She was fading. Bruce mentally cataloged every injury he’d acquired over his many, many falls over the years, too many too serious despite his suit. Y/N had nothing but an evening gown to protect her. 

“Stay with me, Y/N,” he said, needing to keep her attention. “Where are you hurt?” It wasn’t ideal, but it’d keep her focused and let him know just how quickly she’d need medical attention. 

“Dunno. My head. It hurts. Something…something on my legs. Pinning me.” The head injury explained a lot of her behavior, the confusion, the words that were starting to sound slurred. That was his main concern for now. Then she was talking again. “M’side…I don’t…” 

Her scream turned his blood to ice. “Y/N!” Nothing. He called again. All he could hear was agonized whimpers, small, high-pitched things that sounded more like a wounded animal than a human. “Y/N!”

The third shout seemed to get her back. “Fell…on something. Lots of blood.” The Batmobile squealed as it rounded a sharp corner, swerving slightly before straightening out again. He knew from experience that was the exact opposite of good. He ran through the options. If they could keep whatever she fell on in place, she’d stand a chance. The trouble was going to be getting her out of a destroyed building without disturbing it. Chances of getting paramedics in were slim, and if it was too long or big or attached to something…

“Bruce…” the fear in her voice was unmistakable, the word cracking even as she whispered it. 

In all the time he’d known her, never once had she been scared. She’d been caught in one of Two-Face’s campaigns to cleanse the city, and as Batman, he’d watched from the rafters as she’d volunteered herself to be the next to face the judgment of his coin. Had looked death in the face with a head held high and squared shoulders, her voice never wavering or faltering as she spoke. She’d been brave, bold and beautiful. He didn’t know her name back then, but he was sure he fell in love that day. 

And it was all because she’d had complete faith that Batman would save her. She’d looked Dent straight in the eye and told him so. He’d proven her faith true that day, and she had rewarded him with unerring confidence ever since. 

On the darkest of days when even he wasn’t sure he could save the day, she’d been there, telling him with complete and utter surety that he could, and, that he would be coming home that night. Never once had there even been a tremble in her voice, nothing that would have ever suggested fear. 

To hear it now, to hear Y/N so scared and defeated, it hit harder than Bane ever could. 

The leather on the wheel creaked as Bruce’s grip tightened to an almost crushing point. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m getting you out.”

A whimper. A sniffle. Another whimper. The sharp jerk of the inhale hurt her. He should be the one hurting, not her. Never her. “N-no…dangerous,” she managed to whisper, and his control nearly snapped right then. 

“I’m not leaving you, Y/N. I’ll fix this.” Because he had to. This was his fault. Y/N was hurt because of him. Because he’d decided to take advantage of her position as COO and start skipping work events he didn’t want to attend. If he’d been there when the video came in, he would’ve evacuated the hotel before disappearing into the night. He would’ve made sure Y/N was out. And if the bombs had gone off? Then at least he’d be trapped knowing she was safe. 

It went quiet, and Bruce was about to call out to her again when she spoke, words quiet and more slurred together. “Br’ce…m’srry…” His heart twisted and shattered, crumbling into a million tiny pieces. No. _No_. She shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Not for this. Not for anything that had happened tonight. That was him. 

He couldn’t keep up the pretense anymore. Not when she sounded so…so broken. He took a breath and hit the button on his cowl to disable the voice modulator. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do. But if the Bat wasn’t assuaging her fear, maybe Bruce could. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, baby.” He spoke softly but kept his voice steady. 

“Do…was s’lfish. Shouldn’t’ve b’n.”

It was all wrong. He’d been the selfish one. And when she was safe, when he could hold her in his arms, he’d tell her. He’d whisper ‘sorry’ a million times over and hope for a forgiveness that he probably didn’t deserve. “We’ll talk about this once you’re safe, okay? I’m nearly there.” He was seconds away now, the cops around the perimeter jumping out of his way when they saw the car. 

Y/N didn’t argue. “L’ve you.”

“I love you.” The words sounded too much like a goodbye.

He reactivated the voice modulator in the same instant as he jumped out of the Batmobile, activating the lens in his cowl to scan for heat signatures in the crumbling building. Gordon was there immediately, telling him that at present everyone was accounted for. He shook his head. There were small fires scattered throughout, but there, on the eighth floor, a body. Y/N.

“I’m picking up a heat signal. Someone’s still trapped inside. Have paramedics on standby.” With that he grappled up to the roof of an adjacent building, perching on the edge as he looked for a way in. “I’m here,” he said to Y/N. “One minute and I’ll have you. I’m just working out my route down.”

There was an opening on the fourteenth floor he could use for access, but after that, it was difficult to see what was stable and what wasn’t. Time was of the essence, but if he moved too quickly, he could end up doing more harm than good. He’d have to be careful. 

He was about to grapple to the opening when Y/N spoke, “Bruce-” the rest of her sentence was cut off by a thundering crash and a scream. The line crackled and went dead.

Without thinking, he launched himself off the roof. He could see her falling with his lenses, nothing stopping her more for than a second. He breached the building and dived down after her, safety be damned. She was below him, about three floors further ahead. He could see her now even without the heat source.

“Y/N!” 

Chunks of rubble blew past him. Something sliced along his jaw. It didn’t matter. He had to get her…

The realization that he wouldn’t be able to catch her in time hit him like a train. The world slowed down around him, each second lasting an eternity as he watched his own outstretched hand try in vain to grab onto her. But she was too far below him. Out of his reach and he was helpless to change that.

A fall from eight floors up? With who knew what injuries already? It was impossible.

He was going to lose her.

He’d failed.

The thud and crack of a body breaking against a hard floor never came. 

In its place were a series of splashes and a shower of icy cold water spraying upwards. The hotel had a spa on its bottom level. A pool. If she’d gotten lucky and rubble landed in it before her…

There was still hope.

He’d been ready to plunge straight into the water, but a spark caught his eye and he grabbed onto a broken beam at the last second. There was a snapped electrical wire, dangling just above the surface of the water, and seemed to be slipping down closer and closer to it. If it hit before he got Y/N it would kill her for sure. A split-second decision later, he was lunging for it, grabbing the wire just before it touched the surface and throwing it up to hook onto the edge of something, out of harm’s way.

In the same breath, he turned and nosedived into the water, a brief thought at the back of his mind saying to thank Lucius for the waterproof tech later. It was black under the surface, the water-filled with bits of debris that made navigating difficult. But there. Y/N was lying at the bottom of the pool. Trapped under a metal pipe. Bruce gripped it, heaving it off of her, before circling an arm around her waist and dragging them both back up to the surface. 

He emerged with a gasp of air, but Y/N lay limp against his chest, glassy eyes staring into nothing. No. Not now.

Later he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone exactly how he got them both out of there. It was all a blur of grappling up and up, using the nearest semi steady surface, until he was pulling them both out into the night. He landed back on the adjacent roof, laying her gently down on it. 

“Y/N?” He called, feeling for her pulse at the same time as he scanned her. His stomach dropped. She’d gotten lucky with the lack of serious injuries but that meant nothing right now. 

He signaled for Gordon to get medics up there ASAP and started CPR. Five breaths. Thirty chest compressions and check. Nothing.

What was once a pale blue dress was now soaked dark, even darker around her middle where blood was seeping into it. He could see it spread along the ground in the streetlight too. At this rate, she’d bleed out before he could get her heart beating again. 

Dick appeared on the rooftop, his sure steps fumbling when he took in the sight and collapsed onto his knees the other side of her. Bruce risked a glance up, seeing the boy staring back at him. He couldn’t see his eyes behind the domino mask, but he knew the sight of fear. 

“Use your cape and put pressure on the wound. Both sides." 

Dick obeyed immediately, use the bright material to try and staunch the wound through Y/N’s side as best he could. Bruce didn’t miss a beat with the compressions. It was only the years of training that kept him from breaking rhythm in his increasing desperation. 

Fresh blood was sliding down Y/N’s face and neck. In the low light, he could make out at least one head injury. 

"B…” Dick only needed to say a single letter for Bruce to know what he was asking. He wanted to know if they should call it. If they were too late and Y/N was beyond help. 

“Keep the pressure,” he growled, his eyes never leaving her face. He daren’t look anywhere else, lest his own feelings show. 

He could hear the medics nearby. They’d be on the roof soon. He just needed Y/N to be breathing when they did. 

“C'mon, baby,” he whispered quietly enough that even Dick barely caught it. Another two breaths into her mouth, his rhythm breaking a second when there was still no response. 

He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not like this. 

Gritting his teeth he redoubled his efforts. Not today. 

_“Please.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I have a question for you at the end of the chapter, that I'd love to hear your thoughts on!

You were falling. Down, down, down into never-ending darkness. There was a light up above. So faint it was barely discernible, but it was there. It led to safety but it was forever out of reach. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t grasp it. **  
**

You screamed but water flooded your lungs. It burned, choking you even as you fought for a breath. 

The light above flickered out. 

Something was covering your mouth, you could feel it pressing against your skin. You scrabbled at it desperately wanting to get it off as panic set in. 

“Hey, hey, hey, Y/N. It’s okay, you’re okay.” A voice spoke from somewhere up above, a warm hand coming to rest over your own. You recognized it. 

Blinking your eyes open everything was blurry and unfocused. Someone was hovering over you though, and slowly Bruce came into focus, smiling down at you softly. 

“Hey, baby,” he said quietly, his free hand reaching for something over your head before coming down to brush some hair off your forehead. 

You tried to say something back, what, you weren’t entirely certain but something, but even thinking of words felt like effort, like your mind was filled with fog and you couldn’t quite find what you needed. Gradually your surroundings were becoming more clear though. 

You were in a hospital if the quiet beeping of machines were anything to go by. A private room. A nice one. There were flowers next to your bed. Your favorites. The thing over your mouth was an oxygen mask. You’d been trying to yank it off when Bruce had stopped you. Bruce… 

He was still talking to you, nothing important, just quiet little things to keep you calm and comforted. He looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, he hadn’t shaved in several days, and there was a nasty looking gash slicing along one side of his jaw. He still had a hand over yours, fingers entwined now. 

You managed a smile at him, and the worry in his eyes instantly faded some. You tried to take the mask off with your other hand, wanting to try and say something again but found that it was covered in a cast that went up to your elbow. Oh. 

How hurt were you? Was that the reason for Bruce’s worry? You couldn’t feel any pain, but you couldn’t feel much of anything other than a dull ache in your chest. The fall. The water. Anything could’ve broken. Was that why you couldn’t feel? 

“Shh, you’re okay.” Bruce must’ve seen the panic rise again. “The Doctor will be here in a minute to explain everything.”

He seemed so certain that it was impossible to not believe him. As long as he was next to you, you could deal with anything anyway. 

The Doctor came in soon after just like Bruce had said, and checked you over before asking some simple questions. It was still an effort to speak, but you managed and he seemed happy enough. You noticed Bruce’s shoulders relax some. 

You were told you were lucky. That the falls you took could’ve been enough to kill you on their own, without the additional injuries. The worst had been the wound to your side. The second fall had ripped it out, doing worse damage, but the Doctor assured that they’d managed to repair it, and there was nothing to worry about. On top of that, there had been two head wounds, which explained the questions, several broken ribs and hairline fractures, a broken forearm, a torn knee ligament, a punctured lung, and enough scrapes and bruises that there were more damaged areas than not. 

After that, you weren’t really surprised when he said about the amount of painkillers you were on to keep you comfy.

Bruce thanked the Doctor when he was done with a shake of the hand, then returned to his seat next to your bed, your hand in his once again. 

When you were alone, you smiled at him again. “You got to me.”

“Told you I would,” Bruce smiled back, kissing the back of your hand gently. 

“What happened?” You asked, motioning to the cut on his face. 

“This? Sharp piece of rubble. I’ve had worse.”

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment while you enjoyed the comfort of just having Bruce next to you. 

“The others? Did they get out?" 

"Yeah. There were a few minor injuries, but that’s it. You saved them.”

It didn’t feel that way, but it was a relief to hear. “Joker?" 

"Tracked him down the night after and sent him back to Arkham.”

“Thank God.” You slumped into the bed, not noticing how tense you’d been. Everything was okay now. You were alive, Bruce was there. You needed to talk but it could wait. 

“You should get some rest.” Bruce must’ve seen you were still exhausted and leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“You too. Look awful.”

“Thanks,” Bruce chuckled. “I’ll get some sleep later. Focus on yourself.”

“‘kay.” Closing your eyes again, you kept Bruce’s hand in yours as you drifted off back to sleep.

~

The following days were mostly a blur of slipping in and out of consciousness. Bruce was there every time, occasionally joined by Alfred or Dick. You talked a little to them, but mostly it was still too much effort, and easier to just slip back off into sleep again. 

The next time you woke, you ached. The Doctors had been reducing some of your pain meds and you were starting to feel it. For a moment you thought you were by yourself for once, but a rustle of paper had you looking to the corner of the room to see Dick sitting there reading a book. 

It was the first time you’d seen him by himself since you first came to. 

“Hey,” you said, drawing his attention. “What you doing over there?" 

"Didn’t want to disturb you,” he answered, marking the page he was on then set the book down. 

You smiled gently and held out your good arm towards him. “Come here.” Waiting until he moved around to sit by your side, you asked, “How are you?" 

"Okay.”

“Sure? You don’t look so certain.”

Dick nodded, “Yeah. Just glad you’re awake. You were out for so long, I didn’t know-” his voice cracked when he cut himself off, looking down at his hands. 

“I’m gonna be fine, Dick.”

“I know, I just…can’t lose you too.”

Your heart broke for him right then and used what strength you had to tug him in for a hug. It was awkward, holding yourself at an angle that didn’t hurt too much was a strain, but it was worth it to feel his arms around you, being so careful not to squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

“You nearly did.” Dick’s voice was quiet when he pulled away, letting you relax again. “I got to the roof where B had you, and you weren’t moving. You weren’t breathing! And Bruce…I’ve never seen him like that.”

“Like what?" 

"Scared. He didn’t say anything, but I could see it. He thought he’d lost you too.”

It was difficult to know what to say to that. Dick wasn’t the only one who’d never seen Bruce scared. He’d always been unshakeable, the one to spread the fear not feel it, so it was a difficult image to conceive. Maybe Dick had just been projecting, looking to see his own fear in someone else. Because it just didn’t make sense for Bruce to be scared. Why would he? 

The things you’d been feeling before the attack had faded, lost to the pain and fear and then the relief of being alive, but now they were trickling back, feeling like lead in your stomach. Bruce would’ve been concerned for your safety, sure. Just like he was concerned for every civilian’s safety. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that was as far as it went. Being scared would suggest feelings you weren’t entirely sure he had for you. 

Dick must’ve noticed something because he was frowning, “Are you okay?" 

Shaking yourself out of it, you nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Still a little out of it I guess.”

He looked far from convinced, but the concern made you smile. Bruce had taken him in before you two had gotten together, but there’d always been a connection between Dick and you. Perhaps that was why Bruce had originally asked you out. It made sense. 

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Bruce knocked and entered the room carrying a fresh bunch of flowers. 

“Hey, you’re awake,” he smiled, setting the flowers down before leaning over to kiss your forehead. 

“Came to a little while ago. Dick and I have been catching up.” You avoided Bruce’s eyes when you spoke, something he didn’t fail to miss. 

Digging into his pocket, Bruce pulled out his wallet and handed Dick some cash. “Give us a minute?" 

Dick looked between you both for a moment, then nodded and tucked the money away. He gave you another quick hug, then exited the room, probably off in search of food. 

Bruce waited for the door to click shut, then sat down wearily, tugging the knot of his tie loose as he did so. The dark circles under his eyes had faded some over the last week, and he’d shaved now, but he still looked a little worse for wear. He was watching you, or studying more like, taking in every detail, trying to figure out what you were thinking. "I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t what you’d expected him to say. “For what?" 

"Everything. For ditching the party, for asking you to be the one to get people out. For putting you in danger. You nearly died because of me.”

He was sincere, you could see it in his eyes. He meant every word, harbored the guilt. Only it made your own guilt worse. “Not your fault. Didn’t tell me to stay behind.”

“You did exactly what I would’ve done. Saved all those people. But you shouldn’t have been in the position to make that choice. That’s on me.”

“No. Bruce, it’s not. No one forced me, and like…like you said, it’s what you would’ve done.”

“You aren’t me though, Y/N.”

“I wanted to be! I thought…I thought if-” You cut yourself off, turning your head away from him. 

“Thought what?” When you didn’t answer, Bruce took your hand, squeezing it gently. “Talk to me, please.”

“I…thought…I thought if I was like you…I’d be a hero too and you’d think I was important.” The final words came out rushed, heat spreading across your cheeks at the admission. 

“Y/N…” Bruce’s hand was on your face, guiding it back to look at him. He looked wounded, “Why would you not be important?" 

"Because you never forget important things.”

You could see the realization dawn in his eyes and would’ve turned away again if it wasn’t for Bruce’s hand still on your face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, “You’re important. You always have been. I fucked up, I know I did, but I love you, more than I ever could say. Never think otherwise, please.”

It was impossible not to believe him. The genuine sincerity, the pain, the love, it was all there, plain to see. That openness, the vulnerability he so rarely showed, along with what he said, made you nod. “Okay.”

Bruce smiled softly and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I don’t have an excuse for forgetting, but I want you to know that I didn’t. Not completely. I knew it was coming up, I bought a gift, then, the days got so muddled between work and patrols, I just didn’t realize it had come up so quick. It won’t happen again.”

You believed him. It still stung, but it was understandable. And at least he hadn’t entirely forgotten. “Always next year to make sure things go better.”

“Yeah. But if you’ll have me, I can rearrange what I planned this year. Just go a little later.”

“Go where?" 

"To Rome. I arranged for us to have a weekend there for your birthday.”

“Rome?" 

"You said you always wanted to go.”

You were about to protest, say that you’d never told him that, then you remembered. A couple of years ago you’d told him a board member wasn’t available since he’d gone on vacation to Rome, and mentioned in passing that you were jealous and wanted to go. Bruce hadn’t acknowledged it at the time, and you’d assumed he’d been too preoccupied with paperwork to pay attention. Apparently, he had been. “You remembered that?" 

"I remember the important things.”

The words shouldn’t have hit hard, but they did, and you could feel the tears burn at your eyes. It was such a dumb thing to cry over, but there you were, crying because he’d noticed one small fact. Maybe it was because you were still exhausted from everything, or maybe it was because it smashed all the thoughts you’d been having to pieces. 

“What’s wrong? We can go somewhere else if you want? Back to France, or somewhere else altogether.” Bruce had moved from his seat and was kneeling on the floor in front of you so he was as close as he could be, gently reaching forward to brush the tears away.

“No. No, Rome is perfect. It’s just…I love you.”

“I love you too.” Bruce stretched, letting his forehead rest against yours, a hand slipping to idly stroke your hair. 

You wished he could be next to you, that you could feel his arms around your waist, but the bed was too small, and though the two of you probably could’ve squashed on, it would’ve hurt. 

At least he was there, you still had him and he had you, and for the moment, that was enough.

~ 

The room was dark when you awoke with a start, cold beads of sweat coating your skin. Your breaths came in harsh ragged pants, loud in the silence. 

You’d been home a week now, and so far the nightmares had stayed at bay. Until tonight. Tonight you’d found yourself trapped all over again, falling endlessly, freezing water forcing its way in your body. Bruce was above you, yelling your name, but unable to reach you. Knowing now how scared he’d been that night made it all so much worse. 

You sighed, using your good arm to sit yourself up in the bed. The space next to you was empty and undisturbed. Not surprising. You’d talked Bruce into going back out on patrol again. He’d been by your side since your return to the manor, and while you appreciated it, you’d convinced him that a return to normality would be for the best. 

Now you wished you hadn’t. 

Your injured leg protested as pushed yourself out of the bed, though it settled down once you were steady, the knee brace doing its job well, and headed into the bathroom. You could always text Bruce. He’d be home in a flash if you needed him, but the city needed him too. And it was late enough that it probably wouldn’t be long before he returned anyway. 

Splashing some water on your face, you looked yourself over in the mirror. There’d been no nightmares, but you hadn’t slept much either, content most nights to just lay in Bruce’s arms, and it showed. Tomorrow. You’d sleep tomorrow when Bruce was back home and you could spend the day in bed together. It’d be nice. 

Not really wanting to do anything, and not wanting to risk disturbing Alfred when he was watching over Bruce and Dick, you decided to just head back to bed. Sleep would evade you until Bruce was home, but at least you could be comfy. The full-length mirror in the bedroom stopped you in your steps first. It glinted in the moonlight that filtered through the gap in the curtains, drawing your attention to it. 

You clicked a light on and stood in front of it, taking in the full length of your body. The brace was kinda clumpy so shorts had been your best sleep option, and an old t-shirt belonging to Bruce was comfy enough to cover the rest of you. The cast on your arm was still there, though by now it was covered in graffiti of little birds thanks to Dick. Raising the shirt you could see bruises that were now almost faded, and the lesser of the cuts nearly gone, with just slight discoloration where the new skin had grown to mark their presence. 

Then, of course, there was the bandage on your side, masking the stitches that lay beneath. They’d be coming out soon, and then you’d be able to see the scar for the first time. You’d already been warned that it wouldn’t be pretty. The exact opposite. 

It was the first time you’d really stopped to look at yourself, to take in everything that had happened. You touched the bandage gently, fingers ghosting over it. 

You’d gotten lucky. Way too lucky. By all rights, you should’ve died. 

Fuck. 

The thought slammed into you. 

In the weeks since you’d come to you hadn’t stopped to think about that, too busy reassuring everyone that you were fine and alive. You’d come so close to dying. By all rights, you had died. You knew the trouble Bruce had getting you breathing again. If it hadn’t been for him…

“You should be in bed.”

You turned sharply to see Bruce in the doorway, dressed in sweats and t-shirt, home for the night. 

The tremble spread through your body, legs shaking as you tried to keep upright. “Bruce…” Your voice came out quiet, cracking at the first sob that wracked its way through your chest. 

Your legs gave out from under you, but instead of hitting the floor there were arms around you, pulling you into a solid chest. 

It only made you cry harder. 

Bruce held you to him, letting you sob into his shirt, whispering to let it out as one hand rubbed your back. You clung to him, as though you’d fall away if you didn’t. 

“’M'sorry,” you mumbled when you could finally speak again. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” Bruce kissed the top of your head, and moved you both to the bed, being careful of your injuries, but still making sure you were against his chest. He had you propped up, back to his front. 

You twisted slightly so you could bury your face in his neck. “I stopped breathing.” Bruce’s arms tightened a fraction around you, and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was schooling his own reactions. “If you hadn’t saved me, I…”

“I’m always going to save you. No matter what it takes.”

Closing your eyes, you nodded. “I know. I do. It just-”

“Doesn’t make what happened easier.”

“Yeah.”

Bruce ran a hand over your arm, letting you both sit in silence for a minute. It was nice. Having him there calmed you. You never felt safer than when you were like this. “If you want, if it’ll help, I can get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. Best in the city,” he said after a while. 

It was a perfectly sensible idea, one that wasn’t unappealing, but it made you cringe nonetheless. “You’ve been through worse and don’t need to see one,” you whispered. 

Bruce shifted and lifted your head, “Y/N, I run around dressed as a bat. I think there are plenty who’d say I need to see one.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. For the first time in weeks, you laughed. It was absurd, to hear everything Bruce did be minimized down to that, especially from him, and that’s what made the whole thing so funny. It must’ve triggered something in Bruce too because he was laughing with you, and for a few minutes everything felt normal again. 

The two of you came down slowly, Bruce playing with your hair as he smiled at you. “So, do you? Want an appointment?" 

You nodded. "Please. Think I need some help with it all.”

“Okay.” The total lack of judgment in Bruce’s eyes made it all the easier to admit to wanting help. “I’ll look into in the morning.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” Bruce kissed you and it was easy to lean into it, to let him guide it and pull a quiet moan from you. 

You broke apart and Bruce smiled, brushing some hair from your face. “Hold on a second. I’ve got something.” He pulled away carefully and reached into one of the drawers by the side of the bed. When he returned, he handed you an envelope. “I was going to wait and take you to dinner first, but…”

You opened the envelope, pulling out the two slips of paper that lay inside. Tickets to Rome. The date was for a couple of months, enough time for you to finish healing. It was the return date that made you raise an eyebrow. “These are for a week.”

“I think Gotham can survive a week. It still has Robin and if anything happens the jet can have us back in a few hours.”

“You sure?" 

"Yeah. I’m sure.”

A grin crept its way onto your face, tucking the tickets back away so you could wrap an arm around his shoulders. It hurt a little but compared to everything else it was nothing, and for the moment you couldn’t care less. You were happy and excited, and utterly in love with a man who obviously loved you back. 

Bruce returned the grin and kissed you again. 

Things were going to be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So while the main story of this series is done, I’m considering doing a bonus chapter set between parts 2+3. It’ll be Batman and Robin tracking down Joker and taking him in. Basically, I want to write about a Very Mad Bat, and this seemed like the best way to do it! So if that’s something you want to see, let me know!


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